Poems by Denis Florence MacCarthy
page 70 of 379 (18%)
page 70 of 379 (18%)
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Though Domnal[42] it should be, the sun, swift-speeding in his fiery car; Though Niaman's[43] dread name be one, the consort of the God of War; These, even these I'll give, though hard to lure them from their realms serene, For though they list to lowliest bard,[44] they may be deaf unto a queen. Bind it on Morand, if thou wilt, to make assurance doubly sure; Bind it, nor dream that dream of guilt that such a pact will not endure. By spirits of the wave and wind, by every spell, by every art, Bind Carpri Min of Manand, bind my sons, the darlings of my heart. FERDIAH. O Mave! with venom of deceit that adder tongue of thine o'erflows, Nor is thy temper over-sweet, as well thine earlier consort knows. Thou'rt truly worthy of thy fame for boastful speech and lust of power, And well dost thou deserve thy name-- the Brachail of Rathcroghan's tower.[45] Thy words are fair and soft, O queen! but still I crave one further proof-- |
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